


To Yuri, With Love

by traptrixnepenthes



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: M/M, i haven't written outright fluff in years, somehow successfully managed to write something without including post arc 2 spoilers!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:14:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22457812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traptrixnepenthes/pseuds/traptrixnepenthes
Summary: "I practiced this a lot," Flynn said, his gaze steady and straightforward. "Lady Estellise helped me find the perfect balance of flavor for you."Yuri paused for a moment, and then set his mug back down. "What, no more forcing me to be your taste-tester? Have I finally been replaced?""Of course not. I just…" Flynn's eyes dropped to his mug. "I wanted it to be perfect for you."
Relationships: Yuri Lowell/Flynn Scifo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 116





	To Yuri, With Love

**Author's Note:**

> i suck and summaries and didn't want this to come off as insipid so instead of a summary there's a small section of the fic! i've been working on getting their voices down for a while now, but this is the first thing i have ready for publication...
> 
> flynn cooks for yuri, and yuri reflects on how things haven't changed very much from when they were kids.

Yuri was in one hell of a dangerous situation, the kind of which where even a single wrong move could change it from dangerous to outright deadly. He'd had to field this kind of situation before and he'd always made it out safely, but maybe this would finally be where he met his match--after all, he hadn't seen Flynn this excited to cook in _years._ His eyes were shining and really, Yuri hadn't seen him this excited about anything since they were kids; it would've been a fun nostalgia trip if not for what Flynn was actually _saying_.

"...which is how I came up with the idea for something I thought we'd both like." His voice was still even and measured, but anyone from the lower quarter except maybe some of the younger kids would've easily been able to see the genuine exuberance just underneath the honed-in-knight-academy surface. "You'll at least try it, won't you?"

And, like in any proper battle, Flynn was directly targeting Yuri's weaknesses. A chocolate bar--one of the expensive and rare ones that Yuri'd only ever been able to try because Estelle gave him one--sat on the table between them, taunting him. _Mocking_ him. Most likely the chocolate was going to end up in some pretty-looking but horrifying-tasting concoction that Yuri was inevitably going to choke down because disappointing Flynn was somehow worse than than the flavor, but if Flynn really _had_ come up with something good…

The decisive moment of the battle was upon him. Yuri could say yes, and get Flynn's trademark sunny smile blinding him and say his prayers for his tongue, or he could say no, which was the all around smarter idea.

Flynn's eyes were still sparkling. He really thought he was onto something.

"Yeah, sure," Yuri said, mentally asking the goddess to have mercy on him just this one time.

Flynn's smile was blindingly bright, just as expected, and Yuri had half a mind to tell him to watch where he pointed that lethal weapon of his, but the comment would've completely flown over his head anyways. Yuri said nothing and just watched as Flynn stepped over to Comet's innkeeper and politely asked to borrow the kitchen for a few minutes. The innkeeper glanced over at Yuri, her eyes full of apprehension, but he just shrugged and that was a good enough answer. She was something like a surrogate mother to them both, and saying no to Flynn was always...difficult.

It had always been difficult, Yuri mused as he watched Flynn light the stove in the back the old fashioned way without magic. It had been easier when they'd been little kids and Flynn got on his nerves more, but even then there'd been some sort of...mysterious quality to him that had always made Yuri feel bad about it. Whatever quality that was had not diminished as they'd aged, but at least the two of them got into fewer petty fights now, and at least Yuri was good enough at talking loops around Flynn that hopefully he never realized that. Yuri leaned his elbow on the table and rested his head on his fist, and Flynn set a pot over the flame and dropped in the chocolate, broken into pieces.

And then, Yuri watched as Flynn reached over to the kitchen's spice rack and grabbed the thing of chili powder. His fate was sealed.

"Hey Flynn," Yuri called out, "so what is it you're making, exactly?"

"Spiced hot chocolate." Red powder went into the pot. Right along with that precious, precious chocolate. "Lady Estellise found the recipe in an old book as part of the Aspio excavations. It turned out to be encoded research, but she gave me the recipe despite that, thinking I would like it."

 _Damn you, Estelle._ "And did you like it?"

"Very much so, yes." Flynn turned away from the stove, still smiling that god damn smile. "Which is why I wanted to find a way to share it with you, Yuri. It didn't feel right to enjoy it on my own."

Yuri took a deep breath. Every single time, without fail, whenever Flynn said he wanted to cook for him, Yuri had always said yes. He'd always eaten every single bite no matter how disgusting it was, and he'd never told Flynn to his face how awful his cooking was. Well, that wasn't quite true--he had once, when they were 11 years old and Flynn had deviated from a recipe for the first time, and the food had been so strong a single bite had made Yuri start coughing.

"This _sucks!_ " he'd said, ever the eloquent speaker, and shoved his plate away. Enough food to fully prepare as a meal was scarce since they were still kids and could only use leftovers from the inn and wasting it was tantamount to sin, but it really had been that awful.

But Flynn, whose blonde hair had been a bit longer then because he kept forgetting to ask Yuri to cut it and whose blue eyes had been a bit wider and brighter, had asked him, "Is it really that bad?"

Yuri had been expecting an argument, the way they'd argued over everything, not for Flynn to look like a kicked puppy. If they _had_ argued about it, maybe today Flynn being in the kitchen might not be a horror to behold. But little 11 year old Yuri had been so taken aback by that response that he'd mumbled a _no_ under his breath and then ate every single bite of the monstrosity Flynn had made.

It wasn't much later that Yuri decided to pick up cooking himself, to prevent that from ever happening again, and the innkeeper had seemed relieved that he wanted to learn. He could still remember the first thing she'd told him after he'd tied his hair back and pulled on an apron.

"I told Flynn this, and I'm going to tell you, too." She'd been so serious. "The most important ingredient in anything you ever make is _love_."

It had clicked, then, why Flynn had been so upset.

And now, as Yuri watched Flynn pour milk and sugar into the pot and stir it into the now-melted chocolate, those words echoed in his head. The same way they always did when Flynn cooked for him. It would've been embarrassing if this hadn't been going on for ten years now, but at this point Yuri had just sucked it up and accepted that as much as he had a weakness for sweets, he had a weakness for Flynn's cooking too, nasty as it was.

He sighed, and Flynn glanced back at him. "Is something wrong, Yuri?"

"Nope. Just admiring what a handsome figure you cut in the kitchen."

The wooden spoon smacked against the side of the pot. "Now is really not the time for you to be saying things like that."

Flynn's composure was successfully broken. This was a battle, after all--Yuri was entirely allowed to fight back in self defense. "Oh, should I save the marriage proposals for when you're done, then?"

Flynn dropped the spoon, and it clacked against the metal of the pot as he whirled around, cheeks bright red. Bullseye. " _Yuri!_ I have told you time and time again to stop mocking me like that--"

"Better get back to your stove or all your hard work is gonna burn."

Flynn frowned at him for another second, and then turned back to the stove, picking up the spoon and stirring gently. It _was_ true that Flynn had a very professional presence when he was cooking, much as he did in most things these days, but he'd never believe it if it came out of Yuri's mouth. And he was fine with that, he supposed.

After a short while Flynn removed the pot from the stove and poured its contents into two mugs--a blue one and a purple one. Color-coding their stuff had been the easiest way to keep it separate when it wasn't something they shared, and old habits died hard. More went into the blue than the purple one, and Flynn topped the purple one off with more milk. The pot went to where the dirty dishes accumulated--he'd definitely be washing all of those later, not just the ones he used, and Yuri would help--and then he picked up a mixing bowl, another bottle of milk, and a carefully measured two spoons of sugar. He wasn't eyeballing the amounts, which meant he was following a recipe this time, though when or why Flynn would memorize a recipe for whipped cream was beyond Yuri.

Flynn whisked the cream into something truly beautiful--Yuri could tell even from here it was exquisite, as it always was when he followed the damn recipe--and carefully spooned some into the purple mug, a soft and fluffy and sweet peak that then was topped with just a bit more chili powder, seemingly more for appearance than taste. He set his tools aside, thanked the innkeeper for letting him use the space and promised to wash things as soon as he could, and then carried the mugs over to Yuri's table and sat down across from him.

The purple one was, naturally, Yuri's. Seeing its presentation up close was jaw-dropping as always--it looked like something that a cafe for nobles could've been advertising, not something Flynn had whipped up in a few minutes. While Yuri excelled at flavor, Flynn's skill was in presentation--his perfectionism and neat-freak tendencies made things balance out nicely, and this drink did look gorgeous. It was almost a shame to have to drink it.

"So. Spicy cocoa, huh." It could be worse. Maybe the two flavors would go well together. Sweet and savory went together nicely, so maybe sweet and spicy would too. Yuri lifted the mug, about to bring it to his lips…

"I practiced this a lot," Flynn said, his gaze steady and straightforward. "Lady Estellise helped me find the perfect balance of flavor for you."

Yuri paused for a moment, and then set his mug back down. "What, no more forcing me to be your taste-tester? Have I finally been replaced?"

"Of course not. I just…" Flynn's eyes dropped to his mug. "I wanted it to be perfect for you."

Oh, yeah. Yuri definitely had a weakness for Flynn...'s cooking. _Just_ his cooking. This time, he brought his mug to his lips and took a sip, expecting to be hit with some heavy flavor that poorly combined the sweetness of chocolate with the spiciness of chilis, but the hit never came. It was warm and it tasted warm in the way that the right amount of spice always had, turning the hot cocoa from purely sweet into something with more...depth. Flynn was staring at him expectantly, waiting for the verdict, but Yuri was busy trying to drink as much of this miracle creation--a miracle in that it tasted so good, and a miracle in that Flynn of all people had been the one who had made it--as he could at once.

"Do you like it?"

Yuri set his mug down and licked his lips. It was amazing, to put it lightly. "It's pretty good, yeah."

Flynn smiled again, but the effect wasn't so overwhelming this time, and then drank from his own mug. Yuri recalled how he'd cut one of the mugs with more milk, probably to keep the flavor down--he could only imagine how overwhelming whatever was in Flynn's cup was at full strength.

Yuri told people that Flynn had a warped sense of taste, but that wasn't quite right. He'd been taste tester for Flynn's dishes for years, and cooked for him for even longer after taking over that duty, and Flynn just seemed to have a particularly dull sense of taste. Nothing was ever spicy enough or sweet enough or ever enough for him if he wasn't making it for himself, and even Yuri still didn't completely understand how far it went, although he'd certainly tried. Flynn dumped extra spices into his meals, extra sugar into his desserts, and meat was always preferred as raw as was safe to eat, just to get that bit of extra flavor. Eventually Yuri had given up and just started making their meals separately to try and get Flynn's the way he liked it, and seeing the smile on his face then had always been worth it. It felt like a reward for a job well done.

So he grinned at Flynn and said, "Maybe I will make good on that marriage proposal."

Flynn started coughing, slamming his mug down onto the table hard enough that some of his cocoa spilled. "Yuri, if you would just be serious and stop joking around for _once_ in your life--"

"I am being serious!" Yuri's grin widened, and he knew perfectly well Flynn wasn't going to believe that.

Flynn frowned at him, and Yuri just sipped more of his weird spicy hot cocoa. The whipped cream was starting to melt into it, making it even sweeter--Flynn really had put a lot of thought into this, but the man himself just grumpily said, "You have cream on your nose."

"Wipe it off for me."

"You aren't a child anymore."

"And you didn't do it _then_ either. Stingy."

Flynn just frowned harder before starting a lecture that Yuri was already ignoring as he kept drinking his cocoa. It wasn't an unfamiliar scenario, all things considered--but he supposed he hoped Flynn was still making things for him with love.


End file.
